Triumph of the Ill
Oscillating between living authentically and appeasing the past, the men and women stuck solid in frozen Midwestern desolation has caused an impotence so powerful all room for improvement and advancement is retarded. The broke down, low rent white trash woman's version of Schopenhauer's resignation versus Nietzsche's will to power.
Does this KitchenAid blender make my feminism look insincere?
It's not so much a resurrection as it is the timely death of palpable hesitation. There is no more role to fill, it is only what I see the narrative playing out as, to my own satisfaction. Creating new biological processes out of DNA-laden secretions? Obtaining the educational equivalent of legitimacy in the face of abject broke-ass terror and eight years of jumping through prereqs and university requirements?
The fever dream of escaping to the West coast ten years ago is finally manifest with no return ticket bought and no terminal leave date hanging above.
And from my cold, dead hands...
be on my side/I'll be on your side
there is no reason for you to hide
